


Blue heart

by Dreamying



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of drugs, age gap, cross dressing sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-09 09:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13478673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamying/pseuds/Dreamying
Summary: One time a car stopped in the streets of Itaewon in front of Le Queen and Kyungsoo's life took a turn.





	Blue heart

**Author's Note:**

> Self prompt. 
> 
> A big thank you to the mods for accepting me at the last minute. And my good friend for helping me out, and stuffing some self confidence to put the fic in fest.

One time a car had stopped in the streets of Itaewon, in front of Le Queen. Kyungsoo lifted his eyes from where they were focused on, studying the patches in asphalt concreted grounds, lazily leaning on the pole planted into the same solid dried mould. The black tinted window lowered, revealing a man looking straight at him, eyes piercing.

 

Kyungsoo was quick to catch the interest floating in those brown eyes; interest was what he lived on, made a living out of it and every time someone was interested in him, all Kyungsoo could see was the money that this interest could bring on later, much later when they were done using his body. Sometimes it didn't end up with money, sometimes he would be thrown out on the streets in the cold, sometimes he would be beaten a few times when he couldn't satisfy the other's "needs".

 

Extending an elegant foot up to the front across the floor into a pointè stature, and back foot in a turnout flat against the hard floor, Kyungsoo leaned in lowering his torso spine arching into a bow, hand bent at wrist lazily but in precise practice rested on curved hips. If anything, Jongin remembered how enchanting he looked, as the sunlight hit his ivory delicate skin and bounced out in a warm fuzzy mix of gold and orange while the sun sank deeper into the horizon colouring the sky in orange hues on the other side of the street, as the dark street silently protested in the absence of light.

 

The old overused pecan coat slid off his narrow shoulder. A dark pink nipple peeked out from the slip of an old wrinkly camisole with thin strips hanging loosely, barely covering anything. A trail of goose bumps woke up as the chilly air made contact with the skin, he shivered on the street, still grinning with a hint of uncertainty, a bubble of hope stirring his insides.

 

A smirk played across the lips of the mystery man whose most part of the face was still hidden in darkness, before a hand gesture signaled him to get in.

 

In a flash, Kyungsoo hopped inside the car closing the door behind him with a click, and slid into the man's lap. Biting his lips after running his tongue over to wet them, in what he learned was a seductive manner, he grinned then leaning in and pressing them to the handsome man's neck in a chaste kiss, lips chapped from the cold, he tried his best, as the car sped up against the hard concrete to somewhere he didn't know,somewhere. Kyungsoo didn't care where either.

 

His caramel skin was warm, smooth and smelled like expensive cologne, a little pleasant and a little dizzying. The man neither made a move to stop his advances nor pull him in for more, letting the smaller to work on his own. Kyungsoo froze when the car came to a halt almost making him jolt of off the man's lap and fall.

 

And the man pulled him out of the car then into a hotel, chuckling.

 

Oh well, the rich man needs a comfortable bed, he snickered inwardly, despite the anticipation of warm bed for a night and maybe morning too, if he worked his magic really well.

 

Kyungsoo would remember the day forever, when Jongin had pulled him inside a studio inside an expensive hotel's highest floor. Pushed him against the glass window and then pushed his skirt up and sucked him off wet and dry like a pro with his thick lips as Kyungsoo stood in turnout heel to heel and legs bent at knees, hands spread and palms pressed flat against the cold glass. The man savoured Kyungsoo like a delicacy he had starved for decades. Maybe he had, Kyungsoo thought at that time while filling the eager mouth with thick warm liquid, panting, too delirious too think anything from his first time on a receiving end. The guy was amazing cocksuker, thick lips and skillful tongue, bringing him to edge within minutes. Jongin, Kyungsoo learned the name later while fingers ramming his insides, spreading a delicious ache.

 

The camera shots that clicked after didn't matter when the vibrator up his twitching hole kept increasing its pace whenever he moved slightest, changing poses from arabesque to attitude as knee bent a 90° behind his body, for the next click as instructed by the man behind the camera whose fingers of one hand kept pressing the remote in the pocket of his suit pants, zip undone still, dick hanging out. Already half hard again.

 

Kyungsoo enjoyed it.

He enjoyed it a lot.

 

So did the people, when the pictures were printed on the front page of some popular magazine, which Kyungsoo never bothered to learn the name of,but were printed in hundreds of thousands and sold out as soon as they hit the racks.

 

A week spent in the arms, and between legs of a rich man, who also happened to be a famous photographer, warming his dick in exchange for warm food and warm bed, went smooth like his dick up Kyungsoo's ass, sometimes with a little help of lube, butter, soap, shampoo, icecream, maple syrup, whipped cream or just whatever was nearby. And other times raw, dry and tight.. Yet very pleasurable. Very very...

 

The coal rimmed big eyes searched for Jongin, even when he was surrounded by hundreds of perverts who referred themselves as art appreciators, who liked pictures of a young man in camisole and tulle skirt doing splits, and various ballet poses showcasing his petite flexible body with a pink vibrator up his pink twitching rim; of course, they didn't know about the vibrator part. Or else the so-called art appreciators would go crazy and demand for the exclusive shot of white cum dripping from the crack of red burnished ass cheeks sliding down and painting his plush legs, as he bent over the window sill, neck turned to face the photographer with a mischievous glint in big owlish eyes and a content smile dangling on his lips like the moon hanging in the sky, lopsided.

 

When his eyes found Jongin, his lips stretched into a delightful smile, the happy one, but it twitched and dropped at the corners when the said man wasn't alone. A girl... a lady was hanging from his arms, all happy sappy smiles and twinkle-y eyes and diamonds adoring her neck and big stoned ring over her finger. The wedding one. She was everything Kyungsoo wasn't, a graceful pretty young lady, with two sacks of fats over her chest and vagina between her legs, carrying a beautiful red designer gown way better than Kyungsoo can ever.

 

Kyungsoo couldn't stay for dinner after the so-called art exhibition, the sweet cake somehow managed to taste bitter, and distasteful.

 

Of fucking course, Jongin forgot to mention a very tiny, a very very small detail that he was married. It must had somehow slipped out between all the small talks they shared between tangled limbs and sweaty bodies against each other and together, in hushed whispers of something akin to love - like. And the thin platinum ring with a small stone in the middle shining whenever it caught the light was conveniently missing the whole week, and somehow miraculously appeared out of nowhere on his finger, just like the lady in his arms.

 

Kyungsoo smiled again this time a fake one, the fakest fake smile, as the couple came across, all happy and giggly and flushed a little under the influence of high quality alcohol. Maybe it was the expensive bubbly golden champagne, or it was the decade old rotten juice of grapes in delicate wine bottles, whatever it was, but it made his bitter double-edged tongue to form the sweetest and innocent lies. After all he was 17, a young naive boy, who liked dressing up in girl clothes and putting on makeup, doing poses of ballet he had learned when younger, much much younger. Everyone loved him, because he was just that different, twirling in tulles and skirts, spreading smiles and laughter with his peculiar humour, and heart shaped lips, amusement living his his pebble like black eyes, growing wide at everything. He was adorable, they said.

 

The picture was huge, framed in golden carved edges of metal, a lot bigger than the central piece at the art exhibition he was at the other night. "Beautiful," he blurted out, looking at their beach wedding picture decorated proudly in the hall way standing beside Mrs. Kim, who had invited him to have dinner together. Because Kyungsoo was just that hilarious and fun to spend time with, soft feminine boy, with pretty lashes batting innocently, cute in his dress ups.

 

Oh Mrs. Kim, if only you know how much fun I can be.

 

And of course, Jongin would come along and draped his arms around her shoulders and kissing her cheek like the loving husband he was, or he was expected to be. Eyes never leaving Kyungsoo, and exploring the exposed thick things of his in black lace skirt barely reaching mid thigh, and off shoulder nude crop top. Kyungsoo smirked, with a cocky arch of a thick eyebrow.

 

Dinner was delicious, so was the friction Jongin provided him under the table. Maybe more..

 

"So, would you like to play dress up with me?" Mrs. Kim had asked around another spoon full of 'Almas caviar'- as the house lady pointed out, but Kyungsoo thought Jongin's cum would taste better.

 

The foot massaging his bulge from underside of the table pressed even harder when Kyungsoo opened his mouth to form an answer.

 

Flushing deeper shade of red, Kyungsoo formed the answer as a yes with a silent nod, lips pursing, it's hard to not let out a moan when the source of friction was watching him with predatory eyes sitting right beside his naive gorgeous wife, his hand on her thigh.

 

The lady had gleefully clapped her hands, looking happily at her husband who returned the gesture and as thanks to Kyungsoo, by blowing him inside their shared walk-in closet, among the exclusive designer dresses his wife owned, expensive pearls hanging from his neck clustered into a mash of diamond, rubies, greens and yellow, he didn't care about them as much as the shiny spit slicked thick lips enveloping him whole.

 

Jongin made him beg for a release with a ring on his cock. Kyungsoo had begged for more, bent over the jewellery table that occupied the middle of the closet, which was big as his old dusty apartment, cock rubbing against the glass in futile effort to gain a tad more of friction and much needed release.

 

Later he laughed when Mrs. Kim found her husband's wedding ring on his half hard cock as she asked him to try her hand embroidered white skirt. Eyes glossy, jaw set tight she has slapped across Kyungsoo’s face. A tiny burnish took birth on his cheek, whoozing a thread of red liquid result of the scratch of big stoned wedding ring on her hand, which he carried for rest of his life. And later her husband with a cluster of divorce papers.

 

Jongin had laughed about how much of a bitch she was, while licking out the golden glistering expensive "Alma's caviar' out of the crack in Kyungsoo's ass spread over the family's dining table. Later the syrup and whipped cream all over his body, licking, sucking, nipping. Rolling their bodies together to a rhythm their hearts shared, Jongin's eyes gazing lovingly into his.

 

Kyungsoo was on the edge of heaven with Jongin holding his hand and last bits of his sanity, and heart.

 

Over the next few months, Kyungsoo owned a house right in front of Jongin's, using the fortune earned from all those modelling contracts from various brands which he couldn't even pronounce the names of. And he wasn't needed to either, he was just needed to look pretty in pictures wearing whatever was given to him.

 

He laughed, smiled, teared, cried, got on his knees, got half naked just like Jongin had demanded. And got naked when everyone left, settled in Jongin's lap chasing his lips, warming his cock nestled inside him.

 

The chase went on for longer than he expected, when the contracts doubled and Jongin was too busy to click every shoot, handling some to the others, who would look at him more than clicking the pictures. Wanting him more than his portraits. Kyungsoo would smile sly stirring a storm in their minds and teased, widening his legs as the skirt rides up showing a silver of skin, enjoying the attention.

 

He would go find Jongin later, make up smudged, clothes rumpled, the fancy tulle skirt discarded on the floor, legs spread wide open for Jongin to ravage those thick thighs he loved so much and lips to press open mouthed kisses and tongue tracing a wet line to the treasure hidden in confinements of some pretty, satin pastel panties. "Careful!! don’t leave marks", Kyungsoo had a bikini shoot the day next, Jongin would laugh deep and rich eyes disappearing into soft mushy thin crinkles before diving in low to catch the skin between teeth and sucking slightly, making new marks, dark and red. Ouch but Kyungsoo would have flaunted it in his black two pieces barely covering him, anyway.

 

Except this time that face he liked so much was nestled in between someone else's thighs, much thinner and toned than his. Wet and loud slurping noises echoed in his ears even in the confines of his own room after he ran away from the sight, without making a slightest noise.

 

Or even at the party, with loud music blaring through the expensive speakers, and the crowd cheering and yelling 'best party ever'. Kyungsoo had smiled and waved, mind too hazy to process, mouth too fuzzy and high to form words, throat coated thick with someone's release who promised him of love and other fake promises, he doesn't remember who or what, neither did he cared when Jongin pushed him into a wall a few minutes later and shoved his tongue down Kyungsoo's throat along with a finger or two to suck on.

 

And Kyungsoo hummed around Jongin's thick dick looking up at the other's bliss filled face through his lashes, looking just as innocent as he wasn't ever, and Jongin came.

 

Jongin came back to him, he always did. Kyungsoo was happy. Was he?

 

He should be happy. But was he?

 

No, he thought, not when Jongin left in the morning even before he wakes up, probably to someone else.

 

Kyungsoo liked to think he was, even to today, try to convince himself that he was indeed happy, rolling in money, cradled in expensive clothing labels, and expensive gifts from whomever he had used his skilful thin wide tongue and washed it away with liquid of bitter taste that stunk his throat but hey, if it washes over the memory too, then why not.

 

And the countless projects signed in his name didn't make him smile like when Jongin first showed him the magazine. His eyes never twinkled like before, Jongin never looked at him like the night when they first made love, nice and slow, exploring every inch, connecting the moles and pressing a kiss to each. They now only fuck, rough and hard, without caring about the burnished skin on his hips from holding too hard, they fuck now, till their bodies hurt, brain jumbled mess, they fuck like animals, all needy for a release.

 

Eventually Jongin found another model, a young and fresh face. It was inevitable and didn't come as a surprise. Kyungsoo reached over 23 and no longer the same soft girly boy he was once. The stubbles were stubborn, no matter how many times he shaved them off, they would come back. Stupid hair, ruining his baby face, that Jongin once adored, running his tongue over the soft skin. It's gone, never coming back, Just like Jongin. But others came, some of the many were a Chinese model who had many names Kris Wu FunFan YiFart, or the art director Hyunshit, but no one stayed. They left as they came after they cum, leaving Kyungsoo with a bitter taste in mouth and a cut in heart. He should had learnt by then. But stupid heart swayed everytime at mare display of kindness, string with hopes for a little affection.

 

Dainty fingers and veiled smile, the boy from the magazine laughed at Kyungsoo at a party, strings of ghostly white smoke released into his parted lips afterwards, in a sloppy kiss.

 

Byun Baekhyun, the baby face and feminine body was all Kyungsoo could think of for the whole night and the next few, until they met again at a shoot, courtesy of his manager Oh.

 

They smiled on camera and grinded behind, all needy and horny in the darkness.

 

Turned out Baekhyun wasn't as feminine as he carried himself in those shoots, wearing tank tops of glitters when he had fucked Kyungsoo in and out of mattress day in and day out. They had laughed at Jongin's new boy toy, “so gay" while sharing a cigarette or was it a roll of weed, then snorted something white and powdery through nostrils later liquid white through mouth, Baekhyun tasted good or it was those highlighted senses, everything was way more sensitive and sensual, Baekhyun was everywhere, in him, on him, around him. Baekhyun was all he could see and need.

 

Kyungsoo was happy, so fucking happy that he cried into those thin lips and soft skin, lost in small eyes, limbs tangled in sheets, those pretty hands threading gently through his hair, the warm sun light pouring in the monochromatic bedroom, and the only colour was Baekhyun and his red highlights peeking out from under the sheets. Kyungsoo was happy.

 

They weren't friends, they weren't exes exactly either when Jongin hadn't never asked him out. He was... maybe a side bitch the elder picked up from streets. Oh well that's where the photographer had found him all those years ago.

 

All these years later, Kyungsoo would still pick to get into the black sleek car, later into that warm arms and sheets.

 

"Will you still date me if I go bald?", Kyungsoo wondered day or was it night, standing infront of bathroom mirror with a trimmer in hand. Baekhyun climbed on the table and kissed the shaved ahead, and then his shaved ass, kneeling on the floor littered with stray mess of long strands of raven hair.

 

That spring Baekhyun made it official with Kyungsoo. And surprisingly no one were surprised. And the magazines loved showcasing them as an exclusive on covers, on Billboard, in commercials everywhere. More contracts were brought in, money poured at their legs, it left 'paper cuts'. Expensive injuries, Baekhyun had laughed licking those cuts clean, then his ass, stretching with his elegant fingers, folding Kyungsoo into half knees to chest, ass hanging up in air.

 

And so, did the white substance digging into his knees when he rammed into Baekhyun in the pool, watching the water soaking those bundles of money and photos some floating around on the low tides, in their customised dick shaped water float, maximized replica of Kyungsoo's cock, Baekhyun's gift for his birthday.

 

He would wear a gown and a flower crown made of weed and daisies, sporting a stubble and overgrown hair falling in eyes only if Baekhyun gets under the skirt, to milk him dry. They would kiss right after, sharing the white bitter cum dripping down their sloppy open-mouthed kiss, and stain the gown.

 

"Will you ever love me?" Baekhyun had questioned him one night after their bodies spent, limbs tired, minds clouded. Kyungsoo inhaled deeply, chest raising and falling, eyes averted to the ceiling for an escape, and Baekhyun threw up in their sheet then laughed and passed out, tears rolling down his cheeks leaving dry streaks.

 

Life indeed was smooth with Baekhyun, it really was until Baekhyun would wear a ring on his finger and a condom on his dick, fucking someone else in their king sized black bed. Kyungsoo laughed and clicked a picture from the doorframe, the picture he held for a long time, a really long time, till the corners rubbed and rolled a little and the figures almost faded.

 

Pictures would last forever, such a lie. No one told him, Polaroids won't last forever, neither did love. The picture was perfect with Baekhyun's blissed face, and the flimsy snort coming out of his nose, red rimmed eyes, the highlight was when he threw up on the person even before he soiled the condom wet.

 

Kyungsoo laughed and laughed and laughed till eyes welled up of glazy liquid, as his heart got ripped and bleed forming few more open wounds, and the scarlet tears found their way to his eyes.

 

The rehab accepted Baekhyun without any promises. Kyungsoo had signed the papers without any regrets, first for the treatment then for the divorce, the picture played a fair game. Infidelity evidence was stronger than anything else. Baekhyun didn't put a fight, not even a little, and Kyungsoo's heart bled a little more.

 

Years later when the glory faded and so did the fortune, he was sipping on his lukewarm beer alone in a cheap bar somewhere in Itaewon's streets. Manager Oh had left long ago with a phone call, barely containing two words I quit, and anything after that wasn't important, mixed in the statics blurred away like many other faces in his life. Along the last sip, someone slipped in the seat across with, "Hey, long time no see?"

 

Kyungsoo almost spit his beer over the other's face, but he kept it in by pursuing lips tight shut and slowly climbed over the small table on hands and knees, close to other's face with, “Or rather long time no fuck?" He rasped laughing exasperated, spitting out last drops of the drink left on his tongue.

 

Face wet and pride sagging along with the skin on his face, Jongin smiled at him, the same old dazzling, enticing one, which had Kyungsoo smitten once, made him willing to do anything. Oh, how naive Kyungsoo was, or was it his heart, which went on a jog, fast and high even after all those years.

 

"I’m sorry," the words bitter but sincere, stung Kyungsoo's heart which never stopped bleeding even after all these years, after everything. Those words washed over him like the tides of ocean did when they were in Fiji, only them, young and high, in love, or maybe it was only Kyungsoo. Nonetheless, it made him feel lighter, all the pent-up hate in heart melting and came out as tears in his eyes, "I hated you, I hated you so much for the longest time, and I still do," cried Kyungsoo in the others’ arms.

 

It wasn't romantic, it really wasn't. Rather, it was like an old friend comforting another in emotional times, except they weren't friends, fuck friends loosely by definition on urban dictionary.

 

Jongin was sorry, he really was. Only a fool like him could lose someone like Kyungsoo, yes, the small male wasn't perfect, neither was Jongin. They were pieces of a weird puzzle, which somehow fit together, just that Jongin was too late to realise it and came back, it was too late when Kyungsoo walked down the aisle with Baekhyun, too dazed to even recognise Jongin in the crowd, who was dying for a single glance of those doe eyes.

 

At last Kyungsoo was somehow in peace after all those fuck ups, even when he no longer breathed the next morning in his sleep, the smile never left his lips.  
Baekhyun was out of rehab and found the picture with fading figures and frayed edges, the result of being held dearly to Kyungsoo's chest many times. Jongin had handed it to him already drunk at the funeral house, clad in blackness, along with another Polaroid. A last one of Kyungsoo, he looked eternal in peace sleeping in the coffin, holding a white orchid to his chest, the flower Kyungsoo proposed Baekhyun with, love,graceful beauty and some more wordy meanings Baekhyun found later.

 

"I loved you at one point" till this, was messily scribbled behind the one Kyungsoo took standing by their bedroom, where Baekhyun fucked up big time.

 

It ended with Baekhyun just being another false promise of love to Kyungsoo, just like many others.

 

Baekhyun knelt, tears rolling out, guilt squeezing his heart out of every single drop of blood.

 

Kyungsoo had loved him, the love Baekhyun yearned so much for.

 

Baekhyun grieved and mourned over the death of whom? Of Kyungsoo, of the love that he yearned so much? Neither could come back. It was too late, he was too late.

 

Too late to realise that Kyungsoo had showered him with love in his own way. There was love in the way Kyungsoo held his face between both hands tenderly kissing him in the early mornings. There was love in those shared lunches packed by Kyungsoo between lights and cameras. There was love when Kyungsoo had asked him to go easy on drugs, there was love when Kyungsoo begged the doctors to save his husband as Baekhyun lay unconscious on the hospital stroller.

 

Kyungsoo had loved him all along, Baekhyun hadn't realised it, and he had lost him. And then Baekhyun had lost himself too.

 

It all started when Baekhyun's eyes went wide open, hand clutching the magazine papers tight under his fingertips, cheeks burning fierce red , looking at the tulle skirt spread wide into a circle, and hands held above his head with the back arched into a beautiful slope lying on the floor among white lilies and red roses was Kyungsoo, and Baekhyun fell in love.

**Author's Note:**

> It was result of free writing with the image of soo in pretty skirt without any plot. 
> 
> Blue heart because his heart was hurting though out the story, bleeding at every chance at some love. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
